Ironclad
by chocolateowl
Summary: "So, Mr. Smith-" "It's Mr. Johnson." "Same thing. You're so dull, that it doesn't even matter which last name I call you because I'm never even going to remember you anyways." "Excuse me, Mr. Stark?" "-honestly, you're kind of idiotic, if you think you could actually call my inventions fake." (aka a series of one-shots pertaining to the Avengers and the one and only Tony Stark).
1. crumble

**Hello! So for this fanfic, I'm going to try something a bit different. If you guys have any cool quotes that are inspirational, angsty, funny, or whatever, and you want an Ironman piece based around the quote, PM me! I'll message back if I'm writing a chapter around it. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

 ** _"Heroes don't crumble because they're too weak. They crumble because they've been too strong for too long."_**

 ** _-Anonymous_**

* * *

It all started when Jarvis was recycled into Vision.

In reality, it started when Howard ignored Tony as a child. When Afghanistan took him and transformed him into a fire-breathing monster. When Obie's hand reached out to pull out his reactor.

But when Tony woke up, thrashing and turning, and there was no comforting British accent to pull him awake from his nightmares, that's when the dust started falling. There was no one else to run to, with Pepper away for a meeting, and Rhodey on a military trip. And hell no, he wasn't going to spill out his guts to the Avengers, after they so obviously blamed him for the whole Ultron incident (he couldn't blame them though, it _was_ his fault).

So no one pulled him awake from his nightmares, and it grew, writhed into something menacing. It dripped black, and pulled at his sanity, his heart, his mind. It crept through his doors at night, swam in his dreams, until he could no longer escape from it day and night.

He named that lovely specimen guilt. Because who didn't need a healthy dose of guilt everyday?

He had _so_ much to be responsible for, and it's like carrying the world on his shoulders. And no one seemed to notice, not the dust falling, the cracks appearing, that he sometimes wondered, was he that good at masks and duct tape? Or was that what everyone saw when they looked at him sauntering into the kitchen every morning, and they just didn't care?

He envied their ability to be able to talk with Vision casually, to not feel the loss that that the death of Jarvis should have caused them, but didn't. Because he was only a robot, and Tony could just make a new AI, of course.

Whenever he tried to talk with Vision, Tony always left early with some muttered excuse, because he couldn't bear hearing Vision's voice without the snark of Jarvis, without the weight behind them that he was always going to be there for Tony, no matter what.

But he'll get used to it in time. Already, he had been talking to Vision in larger intervals, and if Vision noticed anything off, well he didn't say anything.

Nevertheless, strength was power. Power was safety and security. Oh, the blessings he had as a child to learn that lesson very early. To learn that doubt was lurking in every crack, and that any friend could become a betrayer. So he had to stay strong, because there would be no one else catching him if he did fall.

He always had a good childhood.

But that day, he walked into the kitchen, head held high, sunglasses on, ready to rock the world like he always did, and when he saw the disapproval in Steve's eyes, the annoyance flash across Clint and Natasha's faces, and felt the tension in the air… well, they didn't notice the dust, did they?

The nightmare was still playing on, and on, and he's drowning in an abyss of black mush, and he couldn't see another hand reaching to pull him out.

So he just grabbed a cup of coffee and lazily sat down, smirking, "Those sure are some nice pjs, Cap."

* * *

When Pepper left, he stopped sleeping.

It wasn't like he never did that before, but it's just this time, he definitely owned the whole "sleep is for the weak" expression. It's work, then hopefully snatching a bite of food before working some more, and then making fun of Steve's new heroic cat rescue, and then saving the world, and then working again.

He had no time for sleep. Not with all the repairs pouring in from both SHIELD and Avengers, and his inventions for SI. It didn't help that Clint managed to dent his bow a couple of times when he decided to smack a bunch of mutant bunnies on the head instead of being a normal person and shooting them.

And then Tony had to realize that it was because Clint ran out of arrows, which was such a stupid reason that Tony swore to himself that he was going to invent something that could miniaturize arrows and then expand them at any notice. So that took away a few more days of sleep, but it was worth it in the end when Clint jumped around like a little kid when he got his new-and-improved quiver back.

Anyways, the longest time he had gone without crashing was 14 days, a month ago, longer than the official world record, so hah to that high school student. He slept for two days straight after that, but it wasn't like anyone noticed, so he was fine. But he didn't want the press to know about his slightly unhealthy coping mechanisms, because the media would be drawn to that like flies to a dead carcass.

But he had another AI, Friday, his baby girl who mothered over him as much as Jarvis used to, so he was no longer waking up to silence and then the frantic whirling of DUMM-E, U, and Butterfingers. But she never had the same constant presence of Jarvis, and she wasn't as experienced as him.

Don't get him wrong. Friday's great and all, but she'll never be the same as Jarvis.

And with Pepper gone, and absolutely no one to stop the nightmares, he just didn't sleep. It was bad enough when Jarvis wasn't there, but now, his lifeline just floated away, and he couldn't even blame her, because in her defense, he was a handful. And he couldn't help but wonder, if his mom managed to work it out with Howard, was there something wrong with him so that Pepper couldn't work it out with him too?

Sleep brought the scalding heat of the desert, the frigid cold of space, and the smile of a foe once friend. The accusing eyes of the people he murdered, the people who turned into demons because somehow, he always created something that managed to bite him back in the ass.

And still, the team expected him to stay strong, to manage all the Sokovia Accords issues, and it wasn't like he had enough time before. They didn't notice him slowly fading away, because honestly, he couldn't show them that he was. People were still relying on him to be the confident narcissist on the team, the smirk and the swagger, the guy with all the insane plans.

He was alive. He was Tony Stark, for goodness sakes. He didn't need a knight in shining armor, because he's not some helpless damsel. Give him a lab, a hammer, and a couple of chemicals, and he could blow up the house and the whole village along with it. He wasn't helpless, and he didn't need some people to _baby_ over him like he couldn't do anything himself.

So when he didn't sleep, it just didn't matter, because there were other issues that were much larger, much more important at hand. Like the potential world domination of weird alien creatures in outer space. Or the whole Sokovia Accords issue.

But at night, when all of that swagger was stripped away, all he could feel was the guilt creeping up on him, eating him alive, like maggots wriggling away in a moldy peach. And then, that's when he decided that he was just going to stay awake another day. Tomorrow, he'll get a few hours of rest (but tomorrow never comes).

* * *

It's another sleepless night and bleary eyes at daytime, but Tony managed to drag himself up for breakfast, because he needed a cup of coffee. Desperately.

He probably needed to install a coffee machine in his lab. The first one broke after he decided to use it as a football when he was drunk.

In the kitchen, he collapsed, hot cup of heaven in his hand, listening to the mumbled conversations of the people next to him. Bruce and Thor were missing, off to Narnia doing whatever buff/green guys do in their spare time, and Clint was busy cackling over Steve's permanent sharpie mustache. Vision's busily chatting with Wanda, and Tony mused sleepily how both of them would make an odd couple. Would they have robotic babies with creepy magical powers?

The chatter in the background was just so comforting though, slowly dragging him into a sleepy fuzziness, until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. And then it faded away, to the sounds of space and the cold, unblinking stars ahead.

He could feel the unsympathetic frigidness of the space, ready to swallow him and his insignificance.

His failures, Ultron, all his attempts were useless in face of the enemy in space. A huge purple hand, ready to crush them all. And nothing to stop it, stop the armies, stop the sheer destruction, he was just a prick of nothingness in a sea of activity.

But it wasn't the space that scared him, nor the twinkling of the unmoving stars.

It was the vastness that sent chills down his back. For a second, he wondered if that meant his destruction, the sheer amount of people that he killed, did it actually matter in this emptiness? Did he even matter?

He couldn't help but snort, because now was not the time to have an existential crisis, especially since this couldn't be real.

It was just a dream.

But it felt so _real_. The aloneness, and the dust falling from the sky, the ultimate failure that he couldn't stop, because no one would listen.

He spotted the Avengers sprawled on ground that seemed to stretch on forever, and all of them are so, so quiet, that he couldn't help but sink down to his knees because he's crumbling, and nothing's working.

Every time he tried to fix his mistakes, he failed, and instead, somehow managed to create a new mechanism to destroy the entire world.

"Tony, wake up."

Everyone was burning up in flames.

"TONY."

He jolted awake with a gasp, and immediately fell into a coughing fit, because he needed air, not the thick suffocation of space wrapping around him. Steve's worried (mustached) face was looming over him, and it felt way too similar to the people standing above him in Afghanistan. Where was Pepper when he needed her?

Friday's silent, because he explicitly told her never to involve herself in any of these situations if they ever occur. It would be too suspicious if she mothered over him like he had these sort of... problems frequently. Although he should have known better, since falling asleep at the kitchen table was such an amateur mistake.

Everyone was mumbling, moving around, and Steve was still in his face. He needed space, order, not a chaotic environment that mirrored a certain dusty cave in the middle of a desert.

He couldn't catch his breath.

He could see Natasha glancing at him through his fog of panic, and then she pulled back Steve to give him more room (she definitely deserved a box of poptarts now). Quickly, he pulled himself together, temporarily plugging in the holes and taping up the cracks, even though he was definitely going to fall apart sometime this night.

At least it would be better than falling apart in front of his teammates.

A voice broke him out of his musings, and he silently cursed to himself, because he's being way less attentive than he should have been. Stupid sleep-deprivation.

"You were shivering in your sleep."

That was Clint, staring at him concernedly, and god, he was Tony Stark, he didn't need anyone's pity or care. He was fine, sort of (actually not really, but they didn't need to know that). But now everyone was staring at him, and that couldn't do because it was nothing, nothing was happening, and he couldn't open himself to let them see that there was actually something happening. The feeling of a cold hand reaching inside of his chest to pull out his reactor was always with him, and he wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

People were relying on him, and he had to stay upright, as if he wasn't slowly breaking down from the inside. So he just raised an eyebrow. "Awww, so Legolas does actually care."

Clint opened his mouth to retort, but he trudged on mock-gleefully. "And no, if you think I'm going to sleep with you just because you said that, be disappointed."

Clint snorted loudly at that. "It would probably be _you_ who would be disappointed."

"You wish it would be me."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve look away, fiddling with his hands uncomfortably, and he hid a grin. One down, four left to go.

He gulped down some of his coffee, and lazily stretched back in his seat, keeping his smile easygoing. Wanda stared at him for a couple seconds more, before returning to her conversation with Vision as if he wasn't worth the effort. Not a surprise, but sure. He'll take it. Honestly, it's just Natasha that he's worried about, because she could see through people much better than anyone else (compulsive, self-destructive, narcissistic, of course that's what he was).

"I've got work to do, things to be at, and not much time to spend at a pow-wow session here. Nat, how are your super snazzy gauntlets doing?"

Truthfully, they were actually really in need of a checkup lately, and his schedule to look them over got pushed way back because he's stacked with work and repairs, and he really did need to make a time machine soon so he could at least have more time to do very necessary repairs. Natasha sighed, but threw him one of her Widow's bite gauntlets. "One of them hasn't been working as well as the other one."

He caught the black ring tossed at him, and motioned to the other one, snapping his fingers.

"Gimmie that one. Going to do some more upgrades."

Natasha slid the other one off her arm with a glare, and handed it over. Tony smirked, and then grabbed his coffee and stood up, pushing his chair back. With the two gauntlets in hand, he turned away, throwing over his shoulder, "If a guy wants to dream about throwing snowballs at the Hulk, just let him be."

That's definitely Clint's cough of laughter in the background.

He could still feel Natasha's questioning stare on his back, but he wasn't expecting to win over everyone anyways. If only Natasha was mildly suspicious, then Tony would consider that a pretty big win.

He strolled out, hearing the conversations flicker into existence again, and he inwardly let out a sigh of relief, because he's still safe and _strong_.

 _He's crumbling and there's no one to see him fall._


	2. vegetarian

_**"Nothing will benefit human health and increase chances for survival of life on Earth as much as the evolution to a vegetarian diet."**_

 _ **-Albert Einstein**_

* * *

When Tony heard that Natasha became a vegetarian, he nearly spat out his coffee in shock. And considering that coffee was his baby, well…

Actually no, that sounded weird. He might have a tendency to blow things up, but he wasn't the type of person to drink his baby or do something disturbing like that.

But seriously. Natasha. A vegetarian?

Over the breakfast table, he watched her disbelievingly as she dumped out the precious bacon onto another plate, and went back to devouring her pancakes.

He swore he almost saw Thor cry. To be honest, Tony almost did the same, because rejecting bacon shouldn't have been possible.

He snatched the bacon away protectively before she did something ridiculous, like throwing it in the garbage. "Whoa, Nat, what are you doing?"

She gave him a glare, a forkful of pancakes halfway to her mouth. "Throwing away the pig fat filled with cholesterol that gives people a higher risk of a heart disease and a stroke."

She went back calmly eating her pancakes like she didn't just drop a bomb in the room as everyone stared at her. Steve looked down at his bacon suspiciously, and _no_ she did not just-

She _so_ did not just do that.

Clint toppled off his chair with a crash, looking at Natasha like she ran over his pet dog. "Did you- what did you- why?"

Bruce just coughed awkwardly, and slowly edged out of his seat. "I think I'm just going to… go?"

He quickly ran out of the kitchen, and Tony glared at his retreating back. _Traitor_.

Natasha rolled her eyes as she quickly finished her breakfast, and stalked out of the room. "Drama queens. It's only bacon."

As soon as Natasha's red curls disappeared from sight, Tony turned to Clint, who was already facing him, cross-legged on the ground.

"This is _war_."

Clint nodded seriously. "We have to get Nat back to normal before it's too late."

"This is a dire moment." Thor boomed in agreement, gulping down his waffle sandwich with poptarts in the middle (which honestly looked disgusting, but whatever). "We must bring Nat back to sanity."

"Well said, Katniss and Point Break." Tony grinned, popping a piece of heavenly bacon in his mouth that Natasha decided to abandon."So… plans? I'm up for buying some cows, and setting them loose in her room."

"We should have a day, where everything we cook should be steak and meat and hamburgers," Clint replied, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Everyone turned towards the intruding voice with a betrayed look, and Steve held his hands up.

"I mean, I know I don't want to die," he laughed nervously.

Everyone just looked at him.

"Fine, if you guys want to run headlong into a death sentence, that's fine with me." Steve backed away slowly, and then saw the glint in Tony's eyes. "I have to… be somewhere at this moment. Have fun!"

He quickly turned away, and well, Tony wasn't letting him get away that easily.

"Cap, not so fast." Tony swung an arm around Steve. "You're going to be helping us too."

* * *

The first plan was in action, and Tony couldn't help but cackle evilly. He watched on the couch as Steve sighed for the millionth time as Clint pushed him into Natasha's view.

Steve waved his hand tiredly. "I was forced into doing this. Am I allowed to sue?"

Her eyes widened as she took in the cardboard box that Steve was wearing.

"With a heavily grain and sugar-based diet, we are suffering increased rates of obesity, cancer, diabetes, and osteoporosis," she read one of the messily scrawled words on the cardboard background. "Meat helps keep blood sugar levels stable due to its fat and high protein content."

She looked up with a bored glare. "Where did you find this garbage?"

Steve gestured at Tony accusingly, as he ripped the cardboard box in half and tossed it to Clint.

Tony clasped a hand to his chest dramatically, feeling the cold, hard metal of the reactor. "On the handy-dandy Internet of course, my dear Nat."

Natasha snapped back, "Don't call me dear, unless you want to be castrated."

He backed off quickly, because he still wants to have his body parts still intact, thanks very much. "Okay, someone's a bit grumpy now."

She snorted and instead said, "Is this all you can do?"

Clint hid a snicker, and she looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, so we're on this stage already. I'm so going to win this war."

"I'm joining her," Steve immediately responded. After seeing Tony's incredulous glance, he shrugged, "At least I'm not going to be wearing paper boxes anymore."

He had a point, Tony mused. That wasn't exactly the greatest idea, but to his defense, Thor was the one who suggested it. He should have set the box on fire or something to make it more dramatic.

Anyways, where was Bruce? The more, the merrier.

Then right on cue, there was a crash in the kitchen, and a second later, Thor poked his head in the room sheepishly, covered in corn flakes, followed by a very grumpy looking Bruce clutching a bowl filled with milk.

"We ran out of cornflakes."

Then he stopped, and stared at the cardboard box in Clint's hand. "Is this…?"

Clint nodded excitedly, and Bruce let out a groan.

"Oh no, I'm not going to join this. The last time there was a war, the tower was nearly trashed because _someone_ decided with would be a good idea to blow up the bathroom."

Tony grinned crazily. Totally wasn't his fault or anything. He just happened to be in the bathroom, when the bathroom happened to blow up. "And that's why Brucie-bear, you're going to join us. Pick a side."

Bruce winced at the expectant looks coming to him from both sides of the room. "I think I'm going back to my lab to think for a while. And maybe get some peace."

He rushed out, muttering under his breath, "And I just wanted to have some cornflakes today."

* * *

Tony watched Clint climb through the air vents again, as he gave him the thumbs up, mouthing, "She didn't notice."

He mentally cheered inside, and gave Clint a high-five, while hurrying to the kitchen for some celebratory coffee or cake or something.

And then stopped.

Clint slid to a stop next to him, open-mouthed, staring at the transformed room.

"What the…"

The kitchen was covered in trees with leafy green fronds, waving in the air, and the ground was covered in dirt, like some sort of jungle. Grass and flowers sprinkled the ground, and vines hung in the air. The chairs were replaced by wooden logs, and the stove didn't exist anymore, replaced by an indoor campfire.

How the whole kitchen wasn't up in flames yet, Tony didn't know.

He stepped inside gingerly, and winced, because he could already hear Jarvis snickering at his horror. The floor was a perfectly fine specimen, so why the dirt? But seriously, what happened to the technology? The stove? How were they going to eat?

Where did the microwave go?

How was he going to live?

At least the coffee machine was still in the corner, because then he would have probably flew into a fit.

Clint reverently touched a tree, and glanced back towards Tony with disbelief.

"This is real. How did Nat even get it to fit through the front door?"

"I went to Hogwarts."

Both of them jumped back, as Natasha slipped through the kitchen door like a ninja. A magical ninja, apparently. Then, as Tony turned in retaliation, he spotted her face.

No way. This was _gold_.

He collapsed to the ground in laugher, and who cared if he was getting dirt everywhere, this moment was so worth it. "Clint- you… you absolutely outdid yourself."

Clint gave a mock bow. "Thank you."

Natasha looked at them both in confusion, before a flash of understanding flew across her face. She slid out one of those tiny mirrors, and glanced in it before letting out a hiss of anger.

"You both. Are. So. DEAD."

So when Bruce came in for his morning tea, he stopped in confusion.

In all honestly, it was chaos, since Tony was kind of running for his life, and Clint was tied up in vines in the corner, dying of laughter. Natasha was close behind him with a pointed stick, and the kitchen jungle was still… well, a jungle.

But the best part was Bruce's expression, when Tony slipped and Natasha caught up to him, because he finally got a full view of her face.

Someone had dusted Natasha's face partially white, and gave her a pink nose with long, floppy white ears drawn on with sharpie.

She was, essentially, a bunny.

A very angry bunny that was about to kill him. But a bunny nonetheless.

The cup slipped out of Bruce's hands, and fell to the ground with a crack.

Even when Natasha dumped a gallon of milk on his head, and Clint was covered in hummus, Tony had no regrets, because that was _so_ worth it.

* * *

After a week filled with the stench of raw meat floating through the air, along with live cows trampling all over Steve's room (hey, it was a good idea), the team trudged into the kitchen for a final verdict.

"It's going to be close to impossible to wash off all the blood off the walls," Tony groaned, head on the table. And remove all the trees from the kitchen. And the cows. Not to mention all the work he's behind on because of the time he spent filling Natasha's room with bacon.

Natasha let out a suspiciously sweet smile, "I guess that's true. But it'll be harder to wash this off too."

Wash this… what? Wait, was this a trap?

He could see Clint's eyes widen in horror, and before he could move, Natasha pushed an invisible button on the wall, and then everything turned red.

Literally.

Animal blood poured from the ceiling (again, how did she managed to drill a hole in the ceiling without Jarvis notifying him?) and slid down his shirt and his work jeans. And he actually liked that shirt.

He ungracefully rubbed the blood away from his face, and spat on the ground, because somehow, some of the blood got into his mouth. Absolutely disgusting.

He saw Thor look at him and Clint with astonishment, and back at the ceiling, and then to Natasha. Then, he watched as he slowly raised his hands, and started clapping. For her.

Then Bruce, and then Steve began clapping.

He glanced at Clint with a grimace, who was also covered in the sticky red, and nodded to Natasha resignedly. "All right, you got the last laugh."

He raised an eyebrow. "But, we've taken photos of you with the makeup that Katniss here so masterfully did, so it's not like this is over. And you didn't turn anyone vegetarian here, so…"

Bruce shifted uneasily. "Well…"

He glanced down after all eyes went to him.

"I kind of… am a vegetarian too?"

"WHAT?"

"Brucie NO, that's the dark side."

"I WON."

Bruce shrugged, smiling nervously. "I don't really like bacon either."

"YOU WHAT?"

* * *

 **No hate towards vegetarians, you guys eat whatever you want to eat, and don't let anyone else tell you otherwise. But I decided to use one of those random quote generators this time, and got this one, and thought "Well, why not?" I always imagined Bruce and Natasha to be the most likely to become vegetarians, so here we are.**

 **You probably realized this already, but yes, this was before Ultron, and right after the Battle of New York. It's easier to write them as a team like that, since that was before all the Civil War split-up.**

 **Hope you guys enjoyed this piece! Thanks for faving and following whoever did, and I'm still up for PMs and such.**


	3. weapon

_**"Only he who can see the invisible can do the impossible."**_

 _ **-Frank L. Gaines (suggested by FanGirlForever19)**_

* * *

Instead of learning about fairy tales and Santa when he was young, Tony learnt about bombs and machine guns. He slept with a bottle filled with milk in one hand, and a wrench in the other. He sat in the corner of Howard's lab, and watched him piece together the workings of bomb.

In all honesty, he couldn't have learnt as much as he did if it wasn't for his drive, or his desperation to get some sort of attention. But Howard always was too busy, and he never really had any sort of friends because everyone in his grade was four years older than him.

So he made bombs. Explosive robots as his companions. And when that didn't work, he resorted to partying and huge scandals with alcohol.

That's when he became the infamous Tony Stark, playboy extraordinaire.

But the damage was already done at that point, and destruction cemented as his main niche. When the car crash happened, and he was left to take charge of a company at the age of 21, he was much more than just ready for the role. And people didn't realize that, until it was too late, and he scrambled up the ranks of weaponry like a bloodthirsty tiger.

No one was ready. And so, they called him the Merchant of Death, because that's what he was. He sold death like a street vendor sold food, and people flocked to him like the willing sheep ready to be slaughtered.

The Jericho missile, the guns, the tanks, all of those were his. The screams of a village being raided, the deaths of millions of innocent people out in the east, all of those were his also.

Blood stained his skin until nothing else was visible except red, and on some days, he couldn't help but try to rub the invisible, sticky substance off. Nothing ever came off though.

And even after Afghanistan, even after he declared the end to manufacturing weapons, he still couldn't believe how _blind_ everyone was, or how no one called him out for his lie.

What did they call the Ironman suit? What did they consider his repulsors and firepower?

He still manufactured weapons, but they were just disguised in a different suit. Another mask, perhaps.

And only a few attempts were tried to take the suit away (those senators were so idiotic), and most of those attempts were so pathetic and so easy to push away that he couldn't help but snort in derision. Did the people actually believe his claims of "privatizing peace" and all of that nonsense?

Look at the monsters he had created. Look at the destruction that the suits caused. Did the data lie?

And then, when SHIELD hardly blinked an eye at him when he decided to fly around in the suit for amusement purposes, that's when he came to the conclusion that either a) they were all stupid and in great need of an upgrade or b) they just underestimated him.

Although why they would underestimate the guy who built the first Ironman suit in a cave filled with nothing but scraps was beyond him.

In their defense, he never told them how deep his hole of destruction was. He never mentioned that everytime he looked at a piece of metal, he could see ten different ways that the metal could be used to blow someone's head off. He never told them that he could see how fast each person could die if he decided to whip up a mixture of chemicals that could target the immune system and cause it to go haywire.

They didn't know that he could make a weapon out of basically anything.

Even if something seemly harmless popped up, and it passed every security test in the world, he could do the impossible and find what no one else seemed to spot.

For example, an apple. Maybe, if someone decided to chuck it like a baseball, it could cause a bruise for a day or two, but was it actually dangerous?

He would see an apple and immediately find a way to increase the potency of the cyanide within the seeds so they would kill the person who ate it.

Or he could find a way to engineer the apple so whenever a person bit into it, and the inside began oxidizing, and explosion would occur (he really did like his explosions).

Or even cooler, he could invent an apple-throwing device that coated the apple in a hard substance first so it would be like hitting a person with a real baseball more than 100 miles per hour.

Fun stuff. But no one else saw the potential.

And to be honest, he wasn't really inclined to tell them, because hey, he liked not being in a looney-bin or possibly sent off to prison for a lifetime.

But that didn't stop him from facepalming mentally whenever Natasha nodded to him in thanks whenever he repaired her Widow's Bite, or whenever Clint whooped and cheered everytime he upgraded his bow.

They just didn't see the double meaning behind each upgrade.

But that was fine with him. Because it was way better for them to be kept in the dark then to look at him with suspicion every time he reached for his wrench.

* * *

But when Clint decided to lock him in the bathroom, that's when he decided that nope, wasn't dealing with that anymore.

He was sleep-deprived, without his coffee, and had a desperate amount of work that he needed to get done, even if Clint still wanted to continue the pranking war.

But this bathroom in particular had one of those old-fashioned locks (Natasha didn't trust him with the electronic ones), so he couldn't just call out for Jarvis to unlock the heavy metal door that didn't really have any place in the bathroom but was there because some redhead told him to. Something about privacy, or something boring like that.

And even if he did know how to pickpocket locks, he heard something metal scrape across the outside of the door, which probably meant that Clint had some sort of padlock on the outside of the door so he had "no way" of escaping.

But before he could protest, Clint's cheery voice called out from the other side of the door, "Stark, have fun staring at your reflection for a couple of hours," before his footsteps faded off in the distance.

Absolutely great. He snarled at the door, and kicked it in frustration.

What made matters worse was that someone must have just used the shower a couple of minutes ago, because everything was still wet, and water was the last thing he wanted to see. Especially since he was at his wits end right now, because he needed his coffee.

A glass of alcohol wouldn't hurt either.

But then he slipped on the puddles on the ground, and blindly grabbed hold of the shower curtain. A flurry of water droplets sprayed on to him, and he froze for a second, because that wasn't-

 _Water dripping around him as he took a desperate gulp of air but it wasn't enough and the hands just forced his head underwater-_

He pushed away the unpleasant memories of water rushing up his nose, swirling around the battery imbedded in his chest, the sizzle of an electric shock that brought a wave of agony and-

Yep, he was getting out of here. Screw the consequences.

He scrambled to the wall, and pulled out a wrench from under the bathroom sink, and smashed the switch that covered the electrical wiring beneath.

If they wanted an explosion, they were going to get one.

And if he was having a minor panic episode, well, it was just because of the plaster raining down from the ceiling as he let out an electrical explosion by short circuiting the bathroom lights.

But it wasn't fast enough, and he could hear the footsteps running up the stairs, and this point, he was kind of way too far gone, because for a moment, he panicked. The image of Raza popped up in his mind, and he was going back into the water, back where there wasn't any room to breathe.

So he gave a slightly hysterical cackle and broke the magnetic field from inside the whole building like an absolute lunatic by redirecting the power to overload the transformer. Immediately he dove out of the way, and crouched in the corner as he waited for the circuit breakers to weld together, and normally, Jarvis would be able to neutralize it, but this time he didn't.

Probably because he recognized that Tony had to get out, like right now.

And also, Jarvis would have realized that if the electrical explosion didn't happen, Tony would have probably done something else that would have burned the whole tower down.

Faintly, he heard Steve yell, "Tony, what are you _doing_?" before the wall burst into sparks and exploded.

Oops. Maybe that wasn't the safest option?

Whatever, they had that coming for them. After all, they should have expected it, since he didn't get his coffee before Clint decided to lock him inside.

But as the dust cleared, and a gigantic rugged hole graced the wall, he saw Steve look at him in disbelief through the flames dancing across the ground. And then he winced, and clutched at his chest, because he probably dislocated a couple of ribs from the shockwave.

Thankfully the explosion didn't affect his reactor, because that would have been really bad.

Then more footsteps rushed upstairs, and he couldn't help but groan mentally as he watched the rest of the Avengers scramble up the stairs.

He pointed to the glass doors next to the stairs, grimacing, "You guys are aware that there's an elevator right there?"

The group didn't respond, and decided to gape open-mouthed at the ruined bathroom.

Tony sighed, giving them a small wave. "Hello? Anyone here? Very important person here kind of needs to get medical attention?"

"You what- you blew up the bathroom?"

Now he groaned out loud, because yes he did, congrats on having eyes. "Yes Brucie, now can we please get this fellow out of here before his handsome face doesn't burn to a crisp?"

Absentmindedly, his mind wandered to the fire extinguishing maniac in the basement. The only time when a fire actually happened, DUMM-E wasn't there to experience it. Poor him.

But finally, Steve gingerly stepped forward around the flames, and held out a hand to Tony, who pulled himself up with a sharp intake of breath. Nodding his thanks, he hobbled out, ignoring the eyes that were trailing him as he walked into the elevator.

Bruce was still sputtering in disbelief, "But how- how did you eve-"

"I just rewired the wires inside the bathroom," Tony responded smoothly as he stepped behind the glass walls and into the elevator, giving them all a wink.

Inside the glass box of the elevator, he blew kisses just to annoy them all, and watched Natasha break out of her frozen pose to flip him the bird.

Then the door closed, and the Avengers disappeared from view as the elevator went down. He slid down the wall tiredly, because today wasn't really helping with his stress. But finally it was just peace and quiet, with no crazy assassins to lock him in bathrooms. Now he just needed a drink, and a couple of bandages, and he would be as good as new.

Then the British voice from the ceiling amusedly asked, "Always the one to be dramatic, Sir?"

Tony grinned wearily in response. "You got it, Jarvis."

* * *

 **Please do not try blowing up bathrooms at home, I have no idea how much of this information is actually correct. I did like ten minutes of research, and was like, hey these are fancy words that could make me sound like I know what I'm writing about, but in reality I actually don't. So if some things don't make sense in the rewiring section, well... it might be wrong. In fact, don't try blowing up anything at home, it's probably really bad for your health or something.**

 **This chapter was a slight throwback to the vegetarian scene where Bruce was like, "No no no, Tony, you already blew up the bathroom," as a fun fact.**

 **I did really enjoyed writing about this, thank you again FanGirlForever19! And always up for any quotes from you guys, feel free to PM me!**


	4. lazy

**_"Life grants nothing to us mortals without hard work."_**

 ** _-Quintus Horatius Flaccus Horace_**

* * *

People called Tony a lot of things.

Genius, playboy, philanthropist, billionaire. The one and only Ironman.

And there were some names that were passed around with suspicious glances, and hushed whispers.

Weapons dealer, Merchant of Death.

Murderer.

And he agreed with all of them, the good and the bad. What was there not to agree with?

But he couldn't help but snort when someone decided to call him a lazy asshole.

He was an asshole, yes. And a big one at that.

But he couldn't figure out for the life of him why people called him lazy. Sure, he might have had a notorious reputation for sleeping around with other women. For wasting his money on lucrative items (it wasn't his fault that his favorite coffee was so expensive).

But still, how could have Stark Industries grown to be as successful as it was today if it wasn't for the countless sleepless nights? The hours mulling over paperwork and media interviews?

To be honest, Pepper did most of the paperwork for him now, but that was only because he had the Avengers to take care of now. Seriously, they seemed to think it was a good idea to put their weapons in the blender every single day, because the repairs somehow kept on flowing into his lab.

Clint kept using his bow like a baseball bat, even with his new quiver upgrade, and when Tony finally offered to give him a real awesome-looking staff, Clint just looked at him like he was the one that went crazy.

"Why would I need a stick when I have a perfectly good bow over here?" He gestured to his dented bow with a confused wave.

(Even a two year could understand that a bow was supposed to be for _shooting_ , not smacking things like a baseball bat, Clint.)

Then there was this one time when Thor though it was a good idea to put his magical hammer into the washing machine. That worked out just as well as if someone decided to place a block of solid steel and whirled it around in a paper bag.

So the Avengers got a spanking, brand-new washing machine that could talk and make coffee. And for some strange reason, the machine wasn't very fond of Thor, and decided that splashing him with soapy water was the best way to get revenge.

SHIELD was even worse, with Fury always whining about getting new toys or fancy weapons, or making sure that the Avengers had a good reputation. And guess who Fury went to when the media unraveled some tasty gossip about the Avengers?

He tried going to Natasha and Clint, but they just looked grumpy all the time. Their twin death glares and creepy I'm-going-to-murder-you-in-your-sleep smirks didn't help at all, and instead scared off nearly all the reporters (one actually pissed in his pants).

Bruce outright refused to appear on television, stating how "the green guy really doesn't like flashing cameras" before disappearing into his lab.

Fury even tried with Thor, who managed to break all the cameras with a bolt of lightning, and guess what, Tony was the one who had to pay for the damages that ensued from the chaos.

Even Steve, the most "mature" one out of the Avengers, didn't mix with the media. The last time when he was interviewed, the show ended up with three different women swooning over him, a very frustrated reporter, and a delayed interview with a very confused Steve dressed up as a clown (don't even ask).

So everyone relied on Tony to clear everything up with his good looks and charms (Natasha apparently didn't agree, but whatever, _women_ ).

He was the one who had the experience dodging the poisonous media, the judging eyes of the press, and the traps that everyone laid out like mines in a war field. After all, that was his forte from when he was younger, and still had Howard to carefully monitor his activities in from of the press.

In other words, he was _Tony_ _Stark._

So he had to single-handedly shoulder the burden of the creation of technology in three different companies, deal with life-threatening aliens, and still make his appearance on television because none of the other Avengers were suited for public media.

In short, there was no way that Tony could be a "lazy" asshole. He could agree with asshole, but lazy? Nope.

* * *

If a stranger called him lazy, then he could give him some slack. After all, it wasn't like his work and activities were broadcasted to the entire world.

They didn't know about his constant repairs he had to do every single night after an invasion. They didn't know about the sheer amount of technology he had to upgrade or invent simply to keep his own company aloft. It wasn't really their business to know, and he was fine with that.

But when he overheard the other Avengers call him lazy, well _that_ was a huge nono.

Strangers were one thing. The Avengers was a whole different slice of cake altogether.

First of all, they _lived_ with him like every single day. And they still didn't notice how much effort he had to put into keeping everything in orbit?

Absolutely mental.

He was just emerging from his lab after a day of grinding repairs, and he was sweaty, exhausted, and in desperate need of a long drink of coffee to wake him up. Not to mention the throbbing headache he had due to another night of absolutely no sleep. So when he heard Clint's chuckle in the kitchen, he hesitated before striding in, because he didn't want them to see him in his "mega-bitchy" faze.

He heard Steve absentmindedly ask, "Where's Tony?"

Natasha snorted. "Honestly? Probably drunk off his ass in his lab."

Wow, he was really feeling the love here.

Clint hummed in agreement. "Yea, I asked Jarvis today, and he mentioned something about Tony having a 'killer headache' today."

Bruce coughed, but didn't protest.

He could almost sense the waves of disapproval radiate off of Steve when said superhuman responded, "Sometimes it's just-"

A pause, then a long, drawn-out sigh. "He's just so… lazy."

What.

He did _not_ just go there.

Thor munched on something, before mumbling, "But he's a great warrior of Midgard."

Steve quickly asserted, "That's true. But there are still the times when he doesn't do his share of the work. Remember when we had to go and debrief, and Tony just randomly left in the middle of the meeting?"

Well, _sorry_ for having a broken rib.

To be fair, he didn't really say anything before leaving the room rather quickly. But he thought they realized because, hello, there were two spies on the team.

He waited for someone, anyone, to speak up. Because they knew him better than that, they _had_ to-

Mutters of agreement passed throughout the room.

Were they being fucking serious?

He silently strolled away from the door, because he really didn't need to hear another word. Lazy, his ass.

Snorting, he crept back downstairs in his lab, before grimly smiling to himself.

He was going to show him what the definition of lazy really was.

* * *

A couple of hours later, he had his bags packed, sunglasses on, and a private helicopter on the roof.

At first, Pepper was absolutely pissed at him, because there was no warning whatsoever. Just a phone call, a quick "I need a vacation," and instructions to get a jet ready for Malibu. But after she heard his explanation, and his quick reassurance that yes, he was still going do all the necessary work and inventions for the SI, she agreed resignedly.

Still no rest for the weary, even on his impromptu "vacation."

But when he strutted down to the living room, where all the other Avengers were lying around, they were less than pleased.

"You did WHAT?" Clint growled.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Well Katniss, I've decided to take a quick vacation in the beaches of Malibu."

At Thor's questioning look, he continued, "It's something called relaxing."

Clint's fingers inched closer to his bow.

Natasha eyed him coolly. "Spill the real reason Stark, or I swear, I'm going to nail your guts on the wall for everyone to see."

Considering that she was picking her fingernails with a very large knife, he didn't doubt her.

Before he lost his precious insides, he quickly responded with a flashy smile, teeth bared. "I just thought you guys might have appreciated one less lazy guy left in the tower, hmm?"

Cue the disbelieving looks.

Bruce sighed unhappily, walking out of the living room a shade greener. Although when he passed Tony, he did apologetically glance at him. At least _someone_ was feeling sorry.

But Steve pressed a hand to his face wearily, and mumbled, "Are you serious?"

Natasha shook her head, a look of annoyance on her face, sharing a frustrated look with Clint.

All the work he had put into everything, and he got _this_? The sleepless nights, Clint's annoying bow problem, and all the coffee he had to sacrifice just to stay awake through the day?

When Steve leaned in with the "oh, I'm the righteous one so you'd better listen to me" expression on his face, Tony slammed a hand down on the table, because he had enough.

A huge crack reverberated throughout the room. Everyone stopped mumbling, and stared at the newly-formed dent on the table.

Whoops. That might have been a bit too much?

Eh whatever, sucks for them. He wasn't going to deal with them anymore.

He started pacing around the room, ignoring his throbbing hand, and snorted, "Yes, I'm serious Cap."

Steve started, but Tony interrupted him with a snarl. "I've been working my ass off for the past few months, and I'm not dealing with all your bullshit on being lazy or some nonsense like that."

He whirled around to face everyone in the room, nearly smacking into a flabbergasted Thor.

"I've had a certain… question for a while now."

Everyone stared at him, as he slowly put a hand to his chin mockingly, pretending to be in deep thought.

"How well can you guys survive in Tony Stark's tower without a Tony Stark?"

A humorless grin stretched across his face as he watched Natasha's eyes widen.

"What are you doing, Sta-"

He interrupted her smoothly, pushing his sunglasses further into his face. "I'll bet a million dollars that it's going to be less than a single. Fucking. Day."

And with that, he strolled out of the room, giving a cheerful salute to the rest of the silent Avengers.

As he arrived on the roof, and climbed into the helicopter, he let go of his breath that he didn't know that he was holding.

Was it childish, throwing a temper-tantrum because of single word?

Yes.

But was it totally worth it?

Hell yeah.

Anyways, he snorted inwardly, as the plane lifted off from the ground, he was an absolute pro at childish things.

* * *

When he returned from Malibu in good spirits, and a lot less exhausted than he was a week ago (no repairing Clint's bow for an entire week), he honestly didn't expect the welcome back he got from the rest of the Avengers.

Bruce reached him first, and patted him on the shoulder with a relieved look on his face. He muttered to him softly, "We didn't even get past the first hour without something lighting on fire."

Tony couldn't help but snicker.

Then the rest of the team rushed towards him, speaking all at once.

"The stove burnt down, and we had to have microwaved food the whole week, and it was absolutely _terrible_."

"My baby snapped in half and-" (That was probably Clint… hopefully no real babies were harmed, although he wouldn't put it past anything.)

"Seriously, Jarvis wasn't responding to anything."

"The bathroom flooded, and then we broke the heater system, so we had to wash with cold water in a flooded mess."

He gaped at his team surrounding him.

Thor was nearly in tears, babbling about something to do with the toaster breaking, and having no more poptarts as he nearly cracked a rib hugging Tony.

Clint was holding his broken bow awkwardly, singing praises at Tony for returning because he nearly went insane after his bow broke three days ago (he really must have been really upset, because him singing _praises_ was something… new).

Steve stood behind Natasha, and grinned at Tony sheepishly.

"Sorry for calling you lazy."

He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "I guess I didn't fully realize how much- like how much you actually did in the tower, until you left."

Clint jabbed him, hard.

"Say it."

Steve looked back at him confusedly. "Say what?"

"The thing we practiced so he doesn't decide and abandon us again."

Steve sighed reluctantly, but gave in.

"Tony Stark is-

He paused, and glared at Clint, who was making pleading gestures with his hands.

"He's going to get a bigger ego after this, Clint."

"I don't care. As long as my bow is fixed, I'm happy."

Steve shrugged resignedly and faced Tony.

"…the best?"

Tony burst into laughter, and nearly collapsed to the ground. "I'm keeping this memory forever."

"Of course you are," Natasha groaned, with the slightest hint of fondness in her voice.

"Next time you guys don't agree with me, I'm just going to ditch the tower."

Immediately, five different voices snarled in response.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again."

* * *

 **Hello! Sorry this chapter got out so late, I was on a trip to China for the past ten days, and the wifi there is pretty funky.**

 **Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, thanks for the follows, favs, and review. I really wanted to write something about Tony throwing a tantrum over some small thing, because imo, he would definitely create a big ruckus over little issues. And this is a scene before Ultron was created, so they're still somewhat getting to know each other.**

 **Still up for PMs as usual!**


	5. know-it-all

_**"People who think they know everything are a great annoyance to those of us who do."**_

 _ **-Isaac Asimov (suggested by Jessiestark)**_

* * *

"Pep, you don't understand."

Pepper faced Tony calmly, her eyes glinting dangerously.

"And what _exactly_ don't I understand, Tony? The fact that you're ditching another SI meeting for the third time in the row."

Tony flashed a grin at her as he flipped through the schematics for the web-shooters. The kid's designs were incredible, but he could still stand for another upgrade. Maybe more shooting combinations?

(576 shooter combinations were definitely not enough.)

Absentmindedly, he said, "Meetings are just so boring," as he reached for another sip of coffee.

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because Pepper almost let out a snarl, and stormed towards him. The bundle of papers under her arm were dropped on the table, letting out a large _thump_ when they landed.

"You're seriously behind on the paperwork, so either finish that or you're coming to the meeting, because I'm not going to let you lose a bunch potential investors."

Tony stared at the large pile of papers blocking the holograms to the project he actually wanted to work on, and gave an exasperated sigh.

"How long is the meeting again?"

"An hour."

He opened his mouth to protest because an hour was way too much of his precious time, but Pepper effectively silenced him with her scary glare (probably taught to her by Natasha, which was an even scarier thought).

Instead, he managed to smile weakly. "Sure."

He could make twenty web-shooter combinations in one hour instead of wasting it on a bunch of old geezers that he was probably going to piss off anyways. But Pepper looked relieved, and sent a small smile at him, so he didn't voice his concerns.

Oh, he was still going to piss them off. But hopefully, they wouldn't be as stupid as most people were.

* * *

He was so wrong.

These people were absolute morons, and he was stuck in a room, sweating his ass off while they simpered and fake-laughed to every single bad joke in the universe. Even Pepper was looking a bit bored, and she always tried to stay the professional in literally anything. And currently, she was glancing at him with a worried expression on his face, as if he was going to explode.

He gave her a mock-betrayed look, and she raised an eyebrow, shaking her head sternly.

 _No exploding anything_ , she mouthed to him.

Great, she knew him way too well, considering her smug look at his most-likely crestfallen face. He needed to bring someone else to his meetings so he could actually do something fun.

From the corner of his eye, he could see another person with a stupid-looking tie (seriously, why would anyone consider wearing a tie that had ducks eating paper-airplanes on it) turning towards him, and he mentally groaned before steeling himself for questions he could very well do without.

"Mr. Stark?"

"That's my name, the last time I checked," he answered boredly, looking at a scratch on the table.

The other people around the meeting table gave a couple of nervous titters.

Stupid-tie smiled tightly, before he leaned forward to try to look Tony in the eye.

"Well Mr. Stark, I've been wondering if your technology was fake."

The room suddenly fell silent, and he could see Pepper slowly slide down her seat, a hand to her forehead.

Tony slowly raised his head to meet Stupid-tie's eyes, because there was nothing more insulting than to be questioned by a person who probably didn't even know the difference between an anode and a cathode.

His voice was quiet when he asked, "I'm sorry, can you repeat what you said?"

And apparently this guy was idiotic enough to answer with a cocky smirk,"I said, your technology's a fake."

Surprising how fast a "wondering if it was a fake" turned into a "it was a fake."

Another person tried to put a hand on Stupid-tie's shoulder, but he just shook him off as he steepled his fingers together like he was some all-knowing God.

"You shouldn't underestimate me, Mr. Stark. I've got a degree in Engineering, and I know that half your inventions shouldn't even work."

His eyes flickered towards the blue glow that was dimly shining through his suit, and Tony fought back a snarl of protectiveness that swelled up in him.

"I spent years examining that thing, and you shouldn't even be alive if it was the invention you claimed it was. Using palladium as an energy source should have killed you by now, and there aren't any other elements that could be used without breaking apart the entire reactor."

And with that, Stupid-tie leaned back in his seat, a lazy grin on his face like he had just won the argument. Briefly, Tony shared an alarmed look with Pepper, who was abandoning her professional detachment, because Stupid-tie shouldn't know anything about his reactor.

Tony wasn't stupid enough to make the same mistake again in trusting someone with the technology that literally kept him alive. So he probably had to do a lot more hacking in the Internet after the meeting was over, because there was probably some leftover information that he might have forgotten to wipe out.

But first things first. Stupid-tie was going down.

He let a smile drift onto his face, and pulled out his phone like Stupid-tie wasn't even worth his time (which in all honesty, he wasn't).

"So, Mr. Smith-"

Stupid-tie interrupted him, hissing, "It's Mr. Johnson."

Tony waved a hand dismissively, tapping images on his phone. "Same thing. You're so dull, that it doesn't even matter which last name I call you because I'm never even going to remember you anyways."

Everyone around the table gaped at him, and Pepper gave what sounded like a resigned sigh before plopping her head in her hands.

"Excuse me, Mr. Stark?"

Tony shook his head at him condescendingly. "You pretend to be such a know-it-all, but honestly, you're kind of idiotic, if you think you could actually call my inventions _fake_."

Stupid-tie snorted, but Tony went on calmly. "Trust me, you don't have an inkling of how much more things I can do with my pinky-finger compared to your small brain."

He swiped some more images on his phone before he slid his phone on the table.

"Harvard?"

"How did you- what are you doing?"

Tony ignored him and continued. "Daddy paid him his way to Harvard, interesting. 3.3 GPA, engineering degree barely passed requirements-"

Stupid-tie tried to grab the phone out of Tony's hand but missed.

"It even says Mr. Smith-"

" _It's Mr. Johnson_."

"-has never been able to build a working robot in his life, instead using devices like the primitive Arduino. I wonder wh-"

"Mr. Stark, this is _private_ information."

Tony didn't even spare a glance at his face, and went on coolly.

"His assignments with robots have often failed with disastrous results. To this day, he has never created a single robot, and can only deal with theoretical work rather than what's actually done in real life."

He stroked his chin in mock-thought.

"Of course, this would be good enough for a regular person, but you've forgotten that you're up against a Stark here."

Stupid-tie fell silent, staring at Tony horrified, who finally looked up, and flashed a grin that was all teeth, and no remorse.

"You really think so little of me that I can't invent a new element?"

Stupid-tie spluttered, looking around the room for support. Everyone stayed silent, opting to watch the argument instead.

"But that's not even possib-"

"Nuh-uh, you better not say anything more stupid, because unfortunately for you, I _did_."

Tony dragged a mug of coffee closer towards him, leaving his phone on the table with the incriminating evidence. "I made my first robot when I was _four_ , you stupid imbecile, and got out of MIT when I was fifteen at the top of my class."

He lifted the mug to his lips, and watched Stupid-tie emotionlessly.

"So do I have to prove my technology to some lowlife pretending to be a know-it-all, when he's speaking to the person who literally knows pretty much everything?"

Silence.

"That's what I thought."

Stupid-tie quietly got up from his chair, and fled the room, his metaphoric tail between his legs.

The rest of the room looked at Tony, and Pepper let out a huff of air that sounded suspiciously like, "Of course," but her head was still in-between her arms so maybe he misheard.

He did tell her that this was a bad idea in the first place. Rolling his shoulders, he stood up, and grabbed his phone, giving a smirk to the rest of the people in the room.

"Chop chop, I'm dismissing myself from here. Any complaints?"

Pepper let out another groan, and Tony patted her shoulder sympathetically.

"Well, this is boring, so I'm off."

He strolled across the room, and just when he was at the door, Pepper spoke up, voice still muffled. "You're still doing the paperwork."

* * *

 **Pepper's absolutely great, I love how she manages to deal with Tony's antics. She's CEO, and doing all this paperwork and stuff for the business while cleaning up after all of Tony's messes, and she still sticks with him.**

 **Otherwise, writing about Tony having yet another tantrum was really fun. I would like to give my thanks to Jessiestark for PMing me this wonderful quote that just fits with Tony's personality really well, as well as the favs, follows, and reviews.**

 **Hopefully you guys enjoy this chapter!**


End file.
